VAMPWERGIC

Chapter 8

The white convertible cruised the lonely road with its headlights off. It was a star-lit evening and Logan regretted having to do it this might. There wasn't any other option as he had to dispose off the body as quickly as possible to prevent the putrid odor wafting off; the body had been dead 3days now.

He could see the fenced out section across the road that was Fells graveyard and the vehicle slowly came to a halt. The trunk opened easily despite his shaky hands. A black body bag lay in it, he slowly zipped it open and glanced at the face, and his throat throbbed, he zipped it shut.

Adjusting his hoodie and grabbing a flashlight which he placed between his teeth, he carried the dead weight in the bodybag through the dead silence and littered graves.

He wondered why the cementary had such low gates and little security; Small town. But what type of sicko would rob a graveyard?

He found the perfect spot and let the bodybag land with a slight thud to the ground. Taking a shovel he'd brought along, he started the dig. Minutes passed and he knew he should've been perspiring heavily by now but he wasn't; special thanks to this Lycan curse, he sneered.

The pit was four feet deep and the body landed in. He checked at his timepiece,
Eight-Fortyfive.
Even then he could the effect of the pale grey moon that slowly lit the horizon. Anytime ow and he would experience the immense strength and transformation the lunar globe brought with it. That was when he heard the sound of screeching tires and a vehicle's engine. Shit!

Norman Henderson sighed tiredly while driving his black Metro truck on his regular night patrol. It was his shift today to do the night rounds. Today he had his son's company, Max for some strange reason had wanted to tag along and he'd cheerfully obliged.

"Patrolling doesn't seem so bad." Max spoke breaking his thoughts. He had his head out the window and was taking in the view while his dad drove.
Norman chortled slightly. "Yeah, it's a nice view for a couple of weeks," he said eyes on the road and then at Max. "Try repeating for a month or a year, that's when it gets boring."

"I could never get tired of this scenery." Max muttered while peering straight ahead. His eyesight blurred a little and then his range of vision expanded further than usual and he could see the streets and corners very clearly like through a camera's lens - if not clearer. He could smell something dead, something wasn't right. "Make a left!" He blurted in a trance like manner.

"What?"

"Fells graveyard now." Echoed Max while Norman swerved to make a late left turn. They drove for a couple of seconds before they could see Logan's illuminated convertible.

"What's this about?" Norman questioned.

"That's Logan's car. I'm gonna go check it out, your presence might startle him." Max spoke about to step out.

Norman stared at Logan's vehicle and at the distance they had driven. He took hold of Max's arm in an attempt to question him but instead met the steel grip of Max's hand.
"Oww." He groaned almost immediately.
"I'm sorry. Reflex." Max added apologetically while Norman nursed his hand.

"And what's a teen like you doing out here this late? How did you even know to look this way?" Norman questioned with a curious brow. Max shrugged both shoulders.
"Just a hunch."

The flashlight within his grasp was a facade as he realized weeks ago that he could see perfectly in the dark. He wondered if Logan might be experiencing the same abilities as he. All the more reason he had volunteered to tag along with his dad, and why he was trudging through Fells graveyard now - he had questions that needed answering.